You know that moment when your 4.5yo is actually doing a decent job during Mass, but then he decides he wants to pretend that the church is a bus and that it's shrinking and we're all turning into bees?   Really loudly?

Ohhh yeah, me neither.

Thankfully, Cecilia spent the entire Mass reading her Beginner's Bible, because she has learned to recognize the words Jesus, Mary, and baby and tried to find them on every page.

Seriously, best ever.  She didn't even finish the book and was totally quiet the whole time because she was working so hard!

A stellar conversation was had by all after Mass.  

JP:  Father, did you know I'm very cold?  Because it's only 18 degrees outside!

Cecilia:  Did you know it's almost my birfday?  And Gwampa and Vicki gave me dis neckwace!

Hair:  Halfhearted attempt at this pin

Scarf:  Zulily (tied according to this pin)

Cardigan:  Banana Republic via Twice

Dress:  Tommy Hilfiger via Twice (super-light and summer-weight, but with layers it works great for winter!)

Boots:  Same old, same old.

Tights:  Wal-Mart, $5 and holding up shockingly well!

Belt:  Stolen off an old pair of pants...

Crazy poses:  Courtesy of John Paul resetting the camera settings, making the auto-timer take a loooong time between each shot... We got bored. 

Linking up with Fine Linen & Purple, and don't forget to link your funny quotes up tomorrow for What They Said!

How Can There Be Rivalry When They're On the Same Team?

Let's talk about sibling rivalry, shall we?

See, I read something ages ago that said that the way siblings interact in the early years is hugely indicative of how their future relationship will pan out.  "Got this!" I thought, as I watched a very young John Paul snuggle baby Cecilia, watching a newly-mobile Cecilia crawl after John Paul and lick him repeatedly while he giggled, watched the two of them sit quietly in a "reading nook" corner while he read books to her...

But then, see, Cecilia started having an opinion about things.  And showed herself to be just as stubborn as John Paul, if not more so.  And given that these two were born of two of the most stubborn people on the planet, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that I'm playing referee to the two opposing sides for most of the day ever day, right?

I mean, don't get me wrong, when they play together well they play really well.  I'm talking hours in their room playing Magic School Bus, or going to the basement for quiet hours to play board games (and clean them up. Seriously, they went through Cranium, Diplomacy, and Stratego yesterday and cleaned it all up).

See?  Best friends!

It struck me just how beautiful it is to see their relationship growing as Andrew and I sat on the couch watching them play in the basement today - John Paul suddenly discovered he can pick Cecilia up, and they spent a loooong time with him picking her up, staggering a few steps, and then dropping her on the floor.  She pulled him down on top of her and the giggles were CRAZY infectious.

And of course, you add twins to the mix?  Too cute to resist.

A snapshot:

John Paul is quietly playing the piano.  Cecilia is setting up a bed on the floor with a couch pillow and a fleece blanket, only to realize that Elizabeth has thrown her whole body on the pillow.

"Ewizabif!  Dat's my bed!  I'll make you your OWN bed!"

She runs off and gives Elizabeth a new pillow and blanket, then lies down again only to find Mary Claire is sitting directly next to her on the pillow...

"May Cwaire!  You're my guardian angel!!!"

And thus begins the game in which Cecilia runs away from her "guardian angels" and tells them to "Get back to heaven!!!"  Giggling everywhere, including from the adults in the room.  Seriously, the frantically giggling and running and falling toddlers?  It's really too much.

Cooperation at its finest

But then...

We can't get used to that kind of harmony, now can we?

Within minutes John Paul and Cecilia have been banished from the basement for doing something stupid, and I'm trying to get them to play together in their room so that I can make dinner in relative peace.

3 minutes of quiet and someone's wailing.

I return to find that they're fighting over who gets to throw the pink ball in the laundry basket.

Insert lecture on taking turns and sharing.

5 minutes later, I return to wailing and find them on the floor, tangled up in Cecilia's sheet, fighting over who gets to play with it.

A sheet.  Yes, they were fighting over a sheet.  And then John Paul stood up and he was sitting on his own sheet.

I couldn't make this up if I tried.

2.5 minutes later, Cecilia comes running into the kitchen because "JOHN PAUL PUNCHED ME!"

"Why did he punch you?"

"Because I was tryin' to leave and I said I wouldn't pway wif him."

John Paul comes running in yelling...

"John Paul!  Did you punch your sister?"

"Yes, because she wanted to leave and I wanted to play with her!!!"

So John Paul is sent to his room for a time out and within a minute Cecilia is running back in there to play with him and wailing ensues yet again...

At this point I just separated both of them to different rooms for quiet time, but really?  How long is this going to go on?  I'm thinking years...

This is like, 8 months ago.  See, no crying!

The thing is, when they are good they are so very very good and so independent and so wonderful and lovely.  But when they're bad?  Oh they sure are horrid.

See?  So cute?  So loving!

And they're ONLY bad with each other, they never try to hit other kids and they share sooooo well with everyone else.  But they just go craaaaaaaazy on each other, and then forgive each other immediately.  No consequences, in their minds, except those imposed by parents.  And I don't know how much I need to step in and how much I should let them sort out themselves...

So I'm thinking it's time to find that "Siblings Without Rivalry" book I started reading and then abandoned and maaaaybe try to learn from it again?  Because I feel like all I'm doing right now is babysitting and refereeing, and there's not a whole lot of mothering going on...  And surely there's something I can do to fix this a little bit, right?

Because really, the fact that while he was praying evening prayer he kept kicking her (she was yell-singing "AL-LE-LU-YAAAAAAAAAAAA, AAA-LE-LU-PAAAAAAAASTAAAAAAAA, NOODLE NOODLE NOODLE!!!" when he was just trying to pray!) shouldn't be indicative of their future relationship, should it?

Make me feel better?  Tell me some ridiculous stories about your kids or about you and your siblings?  I know mine aren't the only ones who fight this way!

Is it terrible that I just want them to be like this all the time?

Not Much But Grace...

It happened that dinner today was perhaps the most insane that we have ever had.

Imagine, to begin with, that Cecilia is (as usual, but at least she waited until after we had said Grace) obsessed with pulling out the bench that she and John Paul share.  Now, John Paul prefers to keep it pushed in so far that he is kneeling on the last few inches and mostly supports himself by leaning his upper body on the table.  This results in a lot of falling.

This time, however, he took her challenge and kept pushing the bench out farther and farther until they were both so far from the table they couldn't possibly eat their food.  So I suggested to Cecilia that she take her usual dinnertime potty break now, and she answered with sobs.

An old picture, but you get the point.

I think I calmed her down by showing her a mouth full of unchewed food.  So she and John Paul finally started eating and I looked over to see that Mary Claire had already finished.

Then I looked at the floor.

Great big crocodile tears of anguish at being caught (and thus scolded) rolled down her chubby cheeks as I picked up the food and gave her each piece, one by one.  Meanwhile Cecilia decided now was the time for a potty break.

Several minutes later and I got up to check on Cecilia, who was sitting on the sink naked, making sticky hand prints on the mirror.  "Did you do dis when you were a wittle girl, Mom?" She asked me.

No.  No, I did not.

Returning to the table, I caught the tail end of John Paul being scolded (yet again) for wiping his hands on his shirt.  Ignoring his final warning, he was stripped of his shirt and the sobbing ensued.

Rage from a 4-year-old is frustrating until it gets to the point where you're fighting not to break out in hysterics every time "I waaaaaaaant tooooooo KICK you!!!" is threatened in a menacing growl, accompanied by hands clawing the air.  He has never actually kicked us, but hey, he's using words to express his feelings so I'll take it.  But at the same time, who is he?  Wolverine?

Another oldie, but he hasn't changed much...

After taking five bites of his dinner (and realizing when wiping his hands on his bare stomach that yes, it IS in fact a problem that needs to be remedied), his shirt was returned and he wore an apron over it for the remainder of dinner.

Meanwhile, back in the bathroom, Cecilia had closed the door and was singing something...  I opened the door, or tried to open the door, which was blocked by her naked body, wrapped in a hand towel.

"Why are you naked and wrapped in a towel?"

"Um, because it's just my coat."

Looking more closely, I noticed the edges of her hair were wet...

Not wanting to ask, I did anyway.  "Why is your hair wet, Cecilia?"

"Um because I just dipped it in da potty."

Of course.

If she were in a fairy tale, it would be the Princess and the Pee.  Pee-hair tied up, she washed her hands and returned to the table, only to freak out because she couldn't wear her shirt anymore because she had gotten it wet and she had to eat in clothes, so I sent her to her room to find a shirt.

"A shirt with short sweeves and no marker or stains on it!!!"

This description currently applies to zero shirts in her possession, thanks to the craftiest and most coordinated 2-year-old in the house.

Sobbing.




Eventually I used her stuffed cat to convince her she needed to wear a striped shirt to match the striped cat.

Meanwhile, Mary Claire very vocally decided it was time to get out of her high chair, and Elizabeth decided the same.

Yeah, I have no pictures of the twins crying.  This is Cecilia, but you can imagine it's Mary Claire...

Lest you think Elizabeth was simply angelic, she spent the majority of the day demanding to be physically attached to me, either nursing or being bounced and danced and carried.  I remind you that she is nearly 14 months old, NOT a newborn.  "Wear her!" you say!  Yes, but wearing her means I have to be constantly dancing and singing or she protests from her perch on my back.  Life of a twin mom.  So this was a rare peaceful dinner from the elder of the twins.

And thus ended the main portion of our dinner.  How is it that so many tantrums can ensue over the course of one meal?  And how is it that a single meal can seem to drag on for hours when in fact, it only takes a mere 45 minutes?  And how is it that I haven't punted a single one of our children out the window?

Life, my friends, is never calm around here.  The moment I feel like things are under control, someone starts teething, nap schedules must change, someone goes through a sleep regression, developmental milestones, etc.  Near-constant hunger and exhaustion are par for the course, because you try sleeping when the babies are waking up 2-3 times/night at different times and half the time the 4-year-old needs to wake up to pee.  And you try eating when any meal time consists of running back and forth trying to supply food to the babies faster than they can eat it/throw it on the floor.

And so, lest I get cocky in a few weeks when things seem to be going well again, this is a reminder to myself that no matter how bad it is, it will probably get better.  And no matter how good it is, it will probably get worse.  We're getting by thanks to a whooooooooole lot of grace and not much else.